


One Shy of a Dozen

by protect_him



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Anders/Hawke breakup, M/M, Unhappy Hawke/Anders, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29945856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protect_him/pseuds/protect_him
Summary: Anders and Hawke have been in a relationship, but it's been dying. Anders has been clinging to Hawke, not really knowing what else to do, until Merrill reveals that Hawke may have other interests.
Relationships: Anders/Fenris (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	One Shy of a Dozen

**Author's Note:**

> I was looking through my "Unfinished" folder in google drive and found this?? Mostly finished thing?? Made a few small edits, and _bam_ , free fic. Most of it is probably 2+ years old now, and the optimal time to post it would have been a month ago, but here it is. I even checked tumblr and I didn't post it as a free-standing fic there either, so I may as well drop it here. It's not doing any good just sitting in my "Unfinished" folder. I'd much rather share it!

Anders bent over to pet the little cat that lived in Merrill’s shop.

“A dozen roses, right?” Merrill asked. Anders nodded wordlessly. It was Couple’s Day, and the gift of flowers was traditional. Marian had hinted that she was looking forward to the day, and had been hinting at it for weeks now. Anders was beginning to feel her disinterest, though. He was a trophy to her, something she would show off and take out to dances, but their relationship had been crumbling ever so slowly. He didn’t want to think about it, but it always seemed to jump forward in his mind. He was so busy with the clinic, and with every free moment being spent worrying about this…

“Anders?”

Merrill woke him from his trance.

“Sorry, lost in thought,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Anders, please, but can I ask you a question?” Merrill asked, drying her hands on her floral printed apron.

Anders held the dozen roses in his hands and nodded dumbly.

“You don’t really love Hawke anymore do you?”

The question caught him completely off guard.

“Why do you think I’m buying her flowers?” He asked, somewhat indignant.

“Because you’re supposed to,” Merrill replied calmly. “She’s been talking about it for weeks. She came in yesterday to tell me to make sure there were some left for you to buy.”

“She did?” Marian did a lot without Anders knowing. She was busy with city leadership duties, he knew, but she was often out running errands until late into the night. More than one night he’d fallen asleep waiting up for her, and a few times she’d never come home, claiming she slept in the office.

Merrill was nodding. Was that pity?

“Marian was probably in the area,” he said. “She likes to see you too, you know.” He was about to turn to go.

“Do you know about Isabela?” Merrill asked quickly. Anders stopped and looked back.

“What about Isabela?”

“Hawke doesn’t want you to know, but I don’t think that’s fair,” Merrill said. She looked very nervous.

“Know what?”

“They spend nights together,” Merrill said, looking guilty now that she was saying it. “Hawke thinks you’ll never figure it out. She likes that you take care of the house and things for her.”

Anders reddened. He was being pulled over like this? Isabela was his friend too! Why didn’t  _ she _ tell him?

“Thank you, Merrill,” he said, his voice surprisingly even. “I’ll talk to Isabela.”

“You still want the flowers?” Merrill asked, her voice shy once more. Anders nodded and left. Isabela didn’t live far. He was knocking on her door several minutes later.

“Oh, kitten, it’s you!” Isabela crooned. “Are those for me?”

Anders gripped the roses.

“No. I need to ask you about Marian.”

Isabela pouted.

“Are you in a relationship with her?”

“I don’t know if it’s really a relationship,” Isabela said. “You’re her beau, aren’t you?”

“Not anymore, if she’s sleeping with you.”

“I don’t think Birdie will like that.”

“I don’t care,” Anders said. “So are you?”

Isabela sighed and stepped back, inviting Anders inside. He followed with a heavy step.

“Here, have some coffee,” Isabela said, offering him a seat and a steaming mug. “Birdie didn’t think you’d find out.”

“How long?” Anders asked wearily.

Isabela considered. “Almost six months now,” she said. Anders groaned. “I really care for her,” Isabela said, sitting down across from him, surprisingly serious. “I’ve been asking her to say something to you, too. I wasn’t exactly in on this.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Anders asked, draining the coffee, despite the way it burned his tongue.

“Are you open to suggestions?” Isabela asked, raising one delicate eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I think someone has their eye on you and wouldn’t object to a date,” Isabela said, stirring her coffee slowly.

Anders sat dumbfounded. No one looked at him. He hardly left the clinic except to attend parties with Marian and her friends or to go to her events. Isabela was grinning.

“You’ll never guess,” she said. “I don’t think you’ve ever even considered it.”

“I don’t ever see  _ anyone _ ,” Anders said. “Just Marian and you and Merrill and Aveline and…” his voice trailed off. Isabela knew what he meant.

“Exactly,” Isabela said. “He’s there too.”

Anders frowned. “ _ Sebastian?! _ ”

Isabela laughed loud, spitting coffee across the table.

“No,  _ Fenris _ , you dolt,” she said, once she’d caught her breath.

“Fen-what?!” Anders laughed now. “After that argument about mage oppression, I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

“Yes, I know you two barely talk,” Isabela said. “I know darling, but you haven’t been much of an observer. I, on the other hand, am an  _ excellent _ observer. Varric agrees with me, by the way.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Anders huffed, slumping in his chair with his legs splayed out under the table. His arm slid across the table and shoved his mug aside. The roses he still held limply in his left hand.

“All I’m saying is you should stop and see him,” Isabela said. “The eyes he makes when he knows you aren’t looking—I feel like the rest of us are nothing but flies to him.”

“If this is a prank—” Anders began.

“Hush, kitten,” Isabela said, reaching across to pat his hand. “He’ll be at work all day today. Stop in and say hello. Give him a flower or something.”

Anders sputtered and stood up, shoving the chair back so hard it hit the wall behind him. Isabela sat calmly sipping her coffee as he hurried out, slamming the door behind him.

Anders really wasn’t as upset as he would expect to be. He had been feeling a bit distant from Marian anyway. This was almost easier, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. He looked at the flowers in his hand. They were perfect roses, a dozen glorious full red blossoms, carefully tended by Merrill to be as rich and fragrant as could be.

He turned and headed up the street. Fenris’s small shop wasn’t far. He did not believe Isabela, but what else was he to do? He’d taken the day off for Marian, only to find a note when he woke up saying she had business until this afternoon.

He pushed open the door to Fenris’s shop. He had never actually been in here and he stared around in bewilderment.

The walls were hung with evenly spaced frames. The pictures within them depicted all varieties of buildings, from charming black and white sketches of little cottages to a large and elegant country home, painted in warm, glorious colors. He looked towards the back of the little shop when he heard a thump. Fenris was picking himself up off the floor and straightening the simple apron that bore the marks of Fenris’s trade. Paints and dark black charcoal smudges marred the light fabric.

“Ser Anders, I did not expect you here,” Fenris said. “Can I help you?” He didn’t seem at all angry. The politeness was all genuine, though Fenris did look confused. And disheveled from his tumble off his chair.

“I-uh,” Anders stammered. “I didn’t realize you could do all this.”

Fenris looked at the nearest architectural concept, nothing fancy, but a simple home rendered with clean dark lines and subtle splashes of color.

“It surprises you that I have some useful skill?” He asked, but despite the way he seemed to be baiting Anders, his heart wasn’t in it. He seemed a little sad, actually.

“It’s my own fault for not coming by sooner,” Anders said. Fenris turned to him, surprised at his reply. But now Anders had no idea what to say. Fenris’s eyes were bigger than Anders remembered, and his expression softer. He’d come so far from the runaway slave he’d been when they met him so many years ago.

“I…”

Fenris looked at the flowers and Anders swung them around behind his body.

“I want to apologize for our disagreements,” Anders said. Fenris smiled, looking amused.

“I forgave you long ago,” he said. “It’s been a few years, you know. I’ve been paying attention and I agree with you.”

“You...agree?”

Fenris nodded. “Just because power is abused in Tevinter does not mean it is an evil thing inherently, and in no way justifies mage oppression in the south. Mages are treated as slaves in the circles, and that I can relate to. No mage chose to become such, and therefore doesn’t deserve to be treated differently because of it.”

Anders laughed ruefully. And all this time he’d assumed Fenris was still bubbling with anger and hatred, just waiting for Anders to speak to him so that he could spew anti-mage opinions based on his experiences in Tevinter.

“I’ve wronged you even further, I see,” Anders said. “I apologize again.”

“No need.” Fenris waved a hand. “But I’m sure you didn’t come here just to apologize. Is it something for Lady Hawke you want? I am somewhat backed up on requests, but I can-”

“It’s not about Marian,” Anders said quickly. “We’re...things have gotten complicated. I’ve had to take a step back and I realized that I’ve neglected my other friends, including you and the friendship we could have had sooner if I hadn’t been so stubborn.”

“You are stubborn,” Fenris agreed, but he seemed curious, almost hopeful.

Anders couldn’t  _ imagine _ Fenris having any feelings towards him, but he wasn’t about to go back to Isabela and tell her he’d been too scared to talk to Fenris. He brought the bouquet in front of him again and was squeezing the paper around the stems nervously. He plucked one out of the bunch and offered it to Fenris.

“Would you go on a date with me?” He asked.

Fenris’s jaw dropped and he blinked several times. His hand seemed to move on its own, slowly reaching up to accept the flower. Anders watched, waiting for a response.

Finally, Fenris shook himself, and seemed surprised to find himself holding the rose.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I thought I imagined you asked me to go out with you.” He looked up at Anders in confusion.

“I told Isabela it was impossible,” Anders said quickly, reaching to take the flower back. Fenris snatched it away.

“I didn’t say no yet,” he said.

Anders paused. “What?”

“What if I accept?” Fenris asked. “Were you really asking, or just trying to trick me?”

“I...was really asking,” Anders said slowly, surprised that he was even admitting it.

“Would you allow me to take you out tonight?” Fenris asked, looking like he knew he was asking for too much.

Anders hesitated again. He had planned to take Marian out...or rather she had made those plans. And now...he had no idea what would happen if he said yes.

Fenris looked guilty suddenly.

“I did not realize it was that bad with Lady Hawke,” he said. “I am being too forward.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Anders said, putting a hand out. “It’s been falling apart for a while now. I was just, as you said, too stubborn. I would welcome a change I think.”

“Tonight?” Fenris looked up at him, one eyebrow raised—part question, part challenge.

“I will see you tonight,” Anders said.

Marian still wasn’t home when Anders arrived with the eleven roses. He cut the stems and arranged them in a vase, his mind racing on everything he’d found out today.

Marian swept into the room in a smart black suit and heels that shone and clicked on the hardwood floor.

“Anders, dear, they’re lovely!” She trotted up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Anders didn’t return the gesture, causing her to step back in surprise. “Is something wrong?” Anders suddenly couldn’t say anything. He shook his head as her eyes went back to the flowers.

“Merrill grows the loveliest flowers,” Marian gushed, reaching to gather the blooms in her hands and smell them. Her eyes flickered across them, counting. Anders knew she was counting. He knew she’d realize there was one missing. He turned to the window. This was going to hurt. He knew why he needed to put a stop to the relationship and free them both, but it still hurt.

“Eleven.”

Her inflection suggested a question, but it was not a question.

“I found out about Isabela,” Anders said, not turning towards her. There was no sound behind him.

“It can no longer work between us,” he continued. If she had nothing to say immediately, she would not have anything to say until he was finished. “I suppose I should have seen this coming, but I’m-”

“Stubborn,” Marian finished for him. “Darling, I know. I didn’t want to break your heart.”

Anders sighed.

“Anders, tonight-” She left the question unfinished. She was trying to let him down gently, he could tell. Well, he didn’t need to be let down.

“I’m afraid I can’t make it tonight,” he said. “I have a date.”

The shock on her face was priceless and he was glad he’d turned around to see it.

She wasn’t angry, though.

“Do I get to know who it is?” She asked, when Anders didn’t continue.

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” Anders said, suddenly feeling like a weight had been lifted off of him. He was feeling excited. Marian actually looked relieved as well.

“Then you won’t object to me going to see Isabela?” Again, it wasn’t really a question. She was going to see Isabela no matter what.

“Of course not,” Anders said. “I do want you to be happy still. I’m just not the one who can accomplish that.”

“I know,” Marian said. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Anders grinned.

“I’m doing something that would probably be considered stupid,” he said, “but I think it’s going to turn out just fine.”

When he saw the look on Fenris’s face when Fenris came to pick him up, he knew that Isabela hadn’t been lying. Anders knew that not only would everything be fine, but—quite possibly—everything was going to be wonderful.


End file.
